Okay not to make any grand sweeping statements, but I'm never going to find anyone!
Silliness aside, here's my dilemma: there are three people who I want to make happy time with. All three are committed in one way or the other. One stimulates me mentally, mostly, the other two stimulate me physically. Of the two that stimulates me physically, one makes me feel emotional, the other, feral. I feel like all three like me in some way, but I'm terrible at reading signs so they all could just be incredibly friendly. Of the three, I'm only afraid of losing one, but I'm afraid of getting my butt kicked by the other's partner (not literally though). And I'd be afraid to break up the relationship of the last one. I only want to be in a relationship with one of the three The other two spell disaster from a mile away. Let's break it down with letters!
Person A: Incredibly smart, stimulates me mentally in ways that only professors have been able to interest me, incredibly honest, open-minded, adventurous, spontaneous, wonderful sense of humor, experienced, settled, strong, could hold me down both mentally and physically, BUT has penis (which I'm not too big on at the moment).
Person B: Loving, sweet, funny, trustworthy, patient, sensuous, addictive, gorgeous BUT we're friends.
Person C: Innocent in a way that drives me crazy, kinky, sexual, open-minded, experimental, drives the blood straight into my pants at a moment's notice, BUT has a partner who I wouldn't be able to look in the face afterwards (unless I got permission beforehand).
I really couldn't imagine myself having sex with A because I can't get over the mental block of him having a penis. I really want to be with a woman at this point in my life, but if I ended up with him I would still be incredibly happy. He still has a nice body and I could learn to love his penis, I guess. I could definitely see myself lying in his arms and talking all night, but I would only want to do this if we got into a relationship. It would kill me to only be friends with him and be his cuddle buddy.
I go back and forth with whether I want to sex up B, because I enjoy her company more than I want her sex. The problem is that she is very seductive and I'm only mortal. She activates all of my senses. Part of me really doubts that she does it on purpose, but it still makes me want to jump her anyway. She would make both a good fuck buddy and cuddle buddy. I'm a bit confused about the logistics of our relationship, because she's definitely more butch than I am, but I also think that wouldn't be that big of a deal at all if we ever did anything. The problem is that I love having her as friend only. I don't know what sex (or cuddling) would do to our relationship and I'm pretty afraid of asking.
I definitely want to have sex with person C. I want to have wild, biting, scratching fun sex with C, but I actually like and respect her partner. I would want to wait until I got full permission before I did anything, even though I already know that the answer would be no because C's been pretty bad lately. So fun time with (near) strangers is out of the question for now. I'm probably not going to see her for a while (meaning until next week) anyway so I should be fine. Even when I do see her, I'll make sure not to get her alone unless I've talked to her partner by then.
I'm uber concerned with sex right now because I haven't had any (even bad sex) for over a year and I really miss feeling other bodies. Besides that, I'm out of school so sex has been on my mind a lot. I've spent most of these last two days getting off. Anyway, I'm more interested in intimacy than just sex so that makes all of this harder. I feel bad because I've been using my friends as outlets for affection, but I'm not sure how far I can (or should) take it. Really, I just want full access to someone's body who consents to me being there. That would be awesome.
But I'm tired now so I'm going to stop. Good night, folks.
~R.
Showing posts with label confessional. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confessional. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
The Little Orgasm That Could
I can't orgasm anymore! Well... not completely anyway.
I'm on a new medicine that has a particularly nasty side effect of decreasing sexual desire and/or the ability to orgasm. Guess which of the two I got? It may actually be both, but I wouldn't be able to tell. I don't think I've ever had a particularly high libido. Before now, I would masturbate or have sex because it felt good or I was bored or I needed to go to sleep or concentrate. I would get excited randomly, but it didn't happen enough for me to notice a difference if it slowed down.
I tried to orgasm last night and it was such a strange experience. It was like all the signals that my neurons were supposed to fire off didn't quite make it to my brain. The sensations were weak, but I still knew I was having them.... It was a ghost orgasm! I tried again today with a little more success (possibly making a few people a bit uncomfortable in the process). The stronger surges definitely hit, but it quickly faded if I didn't keep concentrating.
It's definitely weird, but I'm going to be on the meds for at least a month to see how they work and if my body finally adjusts to them. Some women can regain their orgasms after a while on the stuff so there's still hope. If not, most people seem to get back to normal after they stop taking them (though it may take a while). Either way, I'm not too worried. If anything, this seems to be the perfect time to experiment. I still get sensations and the stronger ones are enough for me to feel so maybe I can figure out how to have stronger orgasms. Probably not, especially with what I'm working against, but I'm going to try anyway. I have nothing to lose.
Also this is the first post of April!
---Rogue
I'm on a new medicine that has a particularly nasty side effect of decreasing sexual desire and/or the ability to orgasm. Guess which of the two I got? It may actually be both, but I wouldn't be able to tell. I don't think I've ever had a particularly high libido. Before now, I would masturbate or have sex because it felt good or I was bored or I needed to go to sleep or concentrate. I would get excited randomly, but it didn't happen enough for me to notice a difference if it slowed down.
I tried to orgasm last night and it was such a strange experience. It was like all the signals that my neurons were supposed to fire off didn't quite make it to my brain. The sensations were weak, but I still knew I was having them.... It was a ghost orgasm! I tried again today with a little more success (possibly making a few people a bit uncomfortable in the process). The stronger surges definitely hit, but it quickly faded if I didn't keep concentrating.
It's definitely weird, but I'm going to be on the meds for at least a month to see how they work and if my body finally adjusts to them. Some women can regain their orgasms after a while on the stuff so there's still hope. If not, most people seem to get back to normal after they stop taking them (though it may take a while). Either way, I'm not too worried. If anything, this seems to be the perfect time to experiment. I still get sensations and the stronger ones are enough for me to feel so maybe I can figure out how to have stronger orgasms. Probably not, especially with what I'm working against, but I'm going to try anyway. I have nothing to lose.
Also this is the first post of April!
---Rogue
Friday, March 30, 2012
Sleepy Post: Privacy, Fame, and the Public
There's a part of me that wishes to remain anonymous and under the radar. There's a certain freedom to it. I can create a blog like this, one that's very honest and self-conscious, without fear of repercussion. That is, without it affecting my "real" life in any palpable way. It's nice to have a space where you consider those things you don't really express in real life. On the other hand, I do want to be read. Maybe not for this blog, but some future endeavor, I'd like to write stuff for a nice core audience. Hopefully, I'd be able to strike a nice balance between "rock star literary figure" big (which is so rare anyway) and "only read in workshops" small.
I'm saying all of this because I'm really ashamed of that last post. I don't recognize myself when I get that low in depression. Everything hurts so much that I do anything for attention (except, you know, engage with others). But I think I spend so much time ignoring my own feelings that when I do get depressed, I'm forced to face up to all those little insecurities instead of handling them, or at least acknowledging them. Everything in that last post was true to me on some level, but I refused to acknowledge it. It makes life harder to wonder everyday if your friends really like you or if they're using you. I honestly think it's somewhere in between, but when I'm depressed all of those self-esteem issues come up. No one could possibly like me. I'm only good for X. Blah blah blah. All of which I understand as complete bs when I'm normal again.
Anyway, I'm glad that I can make the stupid mistake of writing something like that to a nonexistent audience and it not completely blowing up in my face. Granted, I made myself look like a jackass, but I'm learning. Besides, I have a feeling that if I do ever switch over to a new blog, I'm still going to write about depression. I'll just have to remind myself not to do it while depressed. And so I write this with the understanding that a large, overnight readership to this blog isn't really an imminent concern. But after this week, I became aware of how easily people will judge you for very stupid things and a blog like this would especially be target to that.
In other news....
Things have been getting much better. Writing that last post made me reflect on things and finally go get some extra help for the depression. I still get sad, but it's been more of a cleansing sadness than that dark pit of doom that I go into sometimes. So that's good. I also miss a few of my friends whom I haven't seen in a while, but I think I'm going to leave that to post another day.
---Rogue
I'm saying all of this because I'm really ashamed of that last post. I don't recognize myself when I get that low in depression. Everything hurts so much that I do anything for attention (except, you know, engage with others). But I think I spend so much time ignoring my own feelings that when I do get depressed, I'm forced to face up to all those little insecurities instead of handling them, or at least acknowledging them. Everything in that last post was true to me on some level, but I refused to acknowledge it. It makes life harder to wonder everyday if your friends really like you or if they're using you. I honestly think it's somewhere in between, but when I'm depressed all of those self-esteem issues come up. No one could possibly like me. I'm only good for X. Blah blah blah. All of which I understand as complete bs when I'm normal again.
Anyway, I'm glad that I can make the stupid mistake of writing something like that to a nonexistent audience and it not completely blowing up in my face. Granted, I made myself look like a jackass, but I'm learning. Besides, I have a feeling that if I do ever switch over to a new blog, I'm still going to write about depression. I'll just have to remind myself not to do it while depressed. And so I write this with the understanding that a large, overnight readership to this blog isn't really an imminent concern. But after this week, I became aware of how easily people will judge you for very stupid things and a blog like this would especially be target to that.
In other news....
Things have been getting much better. Writing that last post made me reflect on things and finally go get some extra help for the depression. I still get sad, but it's been more of a cleansing sadness than that dark pit of doom that I go into sometimes. So that's good. I also miss a few of my friends whom I haven't seen in a while, but I think I'm going to leave that to post another day.
---Rogue
Monday, March 19, 2012
Confessional: Project
I want to start a creative project. No, actually, I want to FINISH a creative project. I have so many in my head, but nothing ever gets off the ground because I have the attention span of a small child.
Technically, I'm working on what I hope to be a graphic novel, or a mediocre webcomic with a modest following. The last time I spent any significant time on it was at an airport in Utah two months ago. I made a lot of headway on it and was really enjoying the story line. I think I treat myself to creative stuff. When I know I can relax, I'll start taking and editing pictures or writing bad poems and decent short stories. I've beat it in my head that all my creative stuff is a hobby and that's it. It won't feed my travelling addiction or keep me in the latest bookstore. Right now, I'm thinking about all the class work I need to get done, but instead of doing any of it, I'm sitting in my room procrastinating like hell on the internet because I don't want to lead a group project.
God. How much time have I wasted procrastinating on the internet when I could be procrastinating on something I love to do?
Meh. I blame everything on being terrified of indulging myself and having a near manic desire to fit in. I lose myself in the things I like: sex, work, talking to people, people, writing, whatever. It scares me because I lose control, but I also like that I lose control in those things. When I'm in that head space nothing else matters, but it scares me because I can't control it, but... well, you get the picture. I don't know why I do that. Maybe I'm holding myself up to other people's standards? I mean getting good grades means nothing to me right now, but I still have this strange notion that I can't do badly this semester (or I can't do badly on this assignment, etc.). It's the same thing with careers. I feel like I should be going into one of those "successful" careers of the last post, even though I'm also fighting against it. Whatever it is, I still have a tendency to deny myself the things that I want most (cue memories of Lilly).
The raging desire to fit in is one of those stupid ticks I got growing up. There came a time when I started to feel distinctly different from my family. I was too young for my siblings, too old and far away from my cousins, and I saw my nieces and nephews infrequently. Shy in elementary. Awkward and occasionally picked on in middle school. By high school, I pretty much lost all interest in my peers. I made a lot of friends though and we all bonded over music, art, our interest in sex, and our mutual awkwardness. But I was always much more interested in talking to my teachers, even though it made me feel a bit awkward (which is all still true now). It didn't help that the adults in my life all treated me like some golden child the whole way through. They loved putting me in front of crowds, make me lead things, or give speeches. This made the closest of my friends jealous of me and everyone else put me on a small pedestal.
Needless to say (but I'm going to anyway), I hated it. Stuff like that still makes me a bit uncomfortable (when my prof looks at me to speak up in class, when my manager gives me the keys to something because I'm "responsible and can handle it", commanding the attention of a room, leading anything), but I still end up being in those positions. I'm the kind of person who thrives on love and affection. It kills me to have people put me at a distance or set me apart. I hid my past from a lot of the friends I have now and I still get pointed out as "intelligent". All that being lonely stuff is probably what led me to the depression. Oh and I'm also really distrustful of people when they tell me I'm good at something.
Blurg. See, if I wasn't fucked up enough to actually finish something, I'd be just fucked up enough to be an awesome artist. Ciao loves.
---Rogue
Technically, I'm working on what I hope to be a graphic novel, or a mediocre webcomic with a modest following. The last time I spent any significant time on it was at an airport in Utah two months ago. I made a lot of headway on it and was really enjoying the story line. I think I treat myself to creative stuff. When I know I can relax, I'll start taking and editing pictures or writing bad poems and decent short stories. I've beat it in my head that all my creative stuff is a hobby and that's it. It won't feed my travelling addiction or keep me in the latest bookstore. Right now, I'm thinking about all the class work I need to get done, but instead of doing any of it, I'm sitting in my room procrastinating like hell on the internet because I don't want to lead a group project.
God. How much time have I wasted procrastinating on the internet when I could be procrastinating on something I love to do?
Meh. I blame everything on being terrified of indulging myself and having a near manic desire to fit in. I lose myself in the things I like: sex, work, talking to people, people, writing, whatever. It scares me because I lose control, but I also like that I lose control in those things. When I'm in that head space nothing else matters, but it scares me because I can't control it, but... well, you get the picture. I don't know why I do that. Maybe I'm holding myself up to other people's standards? I mean getting good grades means nothing to me right now, but I still have this strange notion that I can't do badly this semester (or I can't do badly on this assignment, etc.). It's the same thing with careers. I feel like I should be going into one of those "successful" careers of the last post, even though I'm also fighting against it. Whatever it is, I still have a tendency to deny myself the things that I want most (cue memories of Lilly).
The raging desire to fit in is one of those stupid ticks I got growing up. There came a time when I started to feel distinctly different from my family. I was too young for my siblings, too old and far away from my cousins, and I saw my nieces and nephews infrequently. Shy in elementary. Awkward and occasionally picked on in middle school. By high school, I pretty much lost all interest in my peers. I made a lot of friends though and we all bonded over music, art, our interest in sex, and our mutual awkwardness. But I was always much more interested in talking to my teachers, even though it made me feel a bit awkward (which is all still true now). It didn't help that the adults in my life all treated me like some golden child the whole way through. They loved putting me in front of crowds, make me lead things, or give speeches. This made the closest of my friends jealous of me and everyone else put me on a small pedestal.
Needless to say (but I'm going to anyway), I hated it. Stuff like that still makes me a bit uncomfortable (when my prof looks at me to speak up in class, when my manager gives me the keys to something because I'm "responsible and can handle it", commanding the attention of a room, leading anything), but I still end up being in those positions. I'm the kind of person who thrives on love and affection. It kills me to have people put me at a distance or set me apart. I hid my past from a lot of the friends I have now and I still get pointed out as "intelligent". All that being lonely stuff is probably what led me to the depression. Oh and I'm also really distrustful of people when they tell me I'm good at something.
Blurg. See, if I wasn't fucked up enough to actually finish something, I'd be just fucked up enough to be an awesome artist. Ciao loves.
---Rogue
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